Page 70 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

A welcoming glow allowed the village before her to glitter with warm light.

Tall buildings, many two or three stories high, all had different styles of roofing: straw, tiled, or wooden.

Pathways had been properly paved with cobblestone or grey brick, and all led to the village’s circular centre – where a tall statue of a man stood.

Crowds of beings weaved through each other, like colourful bodies of water constantly colliding, their clothing ranging from simple cloth to high quality.

Their hair and skin were all different shades, but most had patches of human skin tone. And there was always one consistency: red eyes.

The Demons below, most of them fully formed in some way, all bore different horns, antlers, or animalistic ears. Many still had inky, void-like patches on their flesh.

The giant spiralling trees completely keeping out the sunlight swayed, and leaves constantly fluttered down like pretty green confetti.

Material draped above, extending from the centre of the spiral and attached to the many base branches of the surrounding tree trunks, adding cheerful colour.

Thankfully the aroma of meat didn’t clog the air – as much of it was human meat – but the smell of herbs and spices wafted all throughout.

Music rang out, tasteful and charming, and occasionally had Lindiwe’s shoulders bouncing side to side in a little dance when the rhythm was just right.

Spiral Haven had come a long way over the last two centuries.

There was no dreariness, no hostility. It looked like any other town, minus the Demons and the strange walls surrounding it.

Couples walked hand in hand while children played, and a smile often crept onto her face. It also made mild jealousy form, as she’d never experienced what being a parent in a happy family was like.

“This place really is beautiful, Weldir,” Lindiwe said, as she lifted her fingertips out to a glow bug when it came near her. She didn’t disturb it, just followed underneath it in case it wanted somewhere to land. “It’s unfortunate you’re unable to see it.”

He could hear her, but his magic couldn’t penetrate the area due to the barrier.

Somewhere far beneath the ground, a mana stone made the bottom of a deep pond grow bright green.

It ensured the trees remained lush and healthy, but it also prevented Weldir from entering.

She was unsure if that was intentional or not.

“Perhaps one day.”

Lindiwe didn’t need to pretend smile, as he was unable to see her through a scrying disc. She was away from his gaze here.

It might be why she often lingered a little longer than she should.

She was situated on top of a roof’s ridge, at the crest of the establishment. Verlem’s Hats, it was called, where head adornments were crafted and sold to fit all the varying horns, antlers, and ears.

It was the perfect perch for Lindiwe, as she sat with one foot up and on the edge, and the other dangling down. Her feathered hood was up, ensuring a quick transformation, and the trees surrounding the village allowed for minimal wind to billow her clothing around.

With a stern, watchful stare, she waited for the inevitable.

In the crowd, a Demon picked up a piece of jewellery from a cart merchant, and their touch disturbed the anchor. A Ghost appeared next to them, covered the sides of their head, and wailed. Everyone cringed or flinched, pulling away as the customer tossed the item back down in disgust.

Just as the attendant and customer began to argue, Lindiwe forced the shift. She dropped off the edge of the roof in her owl form, glided through the air, and landed in a nearby alleyway.

In her Phantom form, she was mostly ignored. She was just another Ghost among many that popped up here.

It was only when she turned physical and reached out to the discarded ring that she was looked upon warily. She stared at both the merchant and customer with a piercing, silent statement: don’t interfere.

“A human?” the customer snarled, raising his claws to grab her.

The attendant grabbed his arm to stop him. “Don’t,” she bit out. “That’s the Witch Owl.”

Lindiwe grabbed the ring, and the deceased human’s spirit came to life. The haunted one, a man, looked around and then screamed at his surroundings. Whether he knew he was dead or not, she didn’t know.

Already in her hand was a glass vial. She flicked her thumb over the cork to remove it, pointed it in the spirit’s direction, and he went quiet. He sighed, as if sensing she was there to aid him, and he was sucked inside without a fight.

“There. The ring is no longer an anchor,” she stated, respectfully placing it back down upon the leather table covering.

Pushing the cork back into the top of the vial, she turned incorporeal. They stared at her, their red eyes wide, until she faded into the crowd. Down an alleyway, she transformed into an owl and obtained herself a new perch.

A few Demons turned their heads up at her. Many shied away when she greeted their gazes, daring them to do something about her presence, while others glared back in distaste.

A charge crackled the air.

It was quick, like lightning flashing behind her, and it set her teeth on edge. The hairs on her arms and nape lifted at the disturbance, as if the air snapped with cold.

She’d never experienced anything like it.

Pushing off, she shifted into her Phantom form, turned in the air, and floated – whereas most would have fallen.

Who she saw made dread sink into her gut.

Jabez crouched with his hand swiping the air right where she’d been half a second ago.

Realising he’d missed her, he rested his forearms on his bent knees and balanced himself on his toes. He looked rather menacing as he stayed low. His long white hair was messy and haphazardly rested around his dark horns and ears. A few strands fell to obscure his left eye.

He was silent as he glared at her, his expression holding nothing but cold malice. He looked... deranged, in comparison to when she’d last seen him.

The dark circles under his eyes hadn’t existed before, and his hair was usually neat – sometimes even tied back. It was also odd to see him without a shirt on, as he just wore dark-crimson loose pants.

His markings have changed as well.

What used to be strange, runic symbols had changed into black streaks that went up his arms, sides, neck, and even into his hairline. It made his features appear sharper, demonic, and ruthless.

They didn’t hide that the young man she’d met centuries ago, who couldn’t have been older than nineteen, had to be at least in his mid-thirties now. He looked tired and indifferent to chaos.

That was the weight of his silent stare.

His nose wrinkled, and he bared his sharp, shark-like fangs. “I told you to stop coming here,” he stated with a quiet growl.

She tilted her chin up. “It’s not like you can stop me.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Then, within the blink of an eye, he was... gone. He hadn’t twitched to move, hadn’t leapt to the side. Just vanished.

Floating in the air, Lindiwe searched her surroundings. She couldn’t see or hear him. He couldn’t have just disappeared. She drifted closer to the building. Where did he go?

Lindiwe searched in every direction and even hovered to a new location. Maybe I should stick to the shadows again. She hadn’t been in the village long, maybe an hour, so she hadn’t expected him to suddenly turn up. It usually takes him a few hours to get here once he’s been alerted.

It took him a while to run here on foot.

Wanting to make sure she couldn’t be followed, as she still had a few more Ghosts she knew she could collect here, she sunk within the random building below her. Then she passed through the walls, surprising Demons as she moved to the next building over and shrouded herself in shadows.

I should be able to collect a Ghost before he reaches me. So long as she stayed hidden until that very moment, she wouldn’t be caught.

It was difficult to do on the ground and in the shadows, so she found a secluded spot within the human items market. She’d already cleared out most of the meat market, but it also depended on whether the butcher touched the human’s corpse while she was near.

A scream caught her attention, and Lindiwe observed what had been touched and noted it. She waited until another spirit made itself known, then Lindiwe hovered out of the shadows with haste towards the first, using the second as a diversion.

Just as she went to touch a slipper on a table, a large hand wrapped around her forearm. It tugged her forward towards the assailant, with a semi-clawed hand coming down to strike her throat. She gasped, turned incorporeal, and gave her back to the crowd to face Jabez.

He didn’t sneer, didn’t grin, but his eyes were sharp and fierce.

And he hadn’t been there a second ago.

“Next time, I won’t miss,” he said, before instantly vanishing.

He actually disappeared! Her eyes widened as she floated back. What the fuck?! Since when can he do that?!

“Uh, Weldir. Something strange is happening.” She backed into the crowd to hide. “Jabez just disappeared into thin air.”

“Disappeared, how?”

“It’s called teleporting,” Jabez muttered low in her ghostly ear from behind.

She gasped and slapped her hand over her ear as she turned around. He was gone.

“It’s a new ability,” he said in her other ear. When she turned that way, he was no longer there. “It means wherever you go, I can follow, even if it’s to the ends of the Earth.”

Lindiwe spun, and he stared coldly down at her.

“Teleporting?” she asked... both of them.

“That is a very dangerous ability for its user, as it’s possible to migrate into a wall or another person. Only certain individuals can avoid that, and it requires practised skill.”

Jabez’s height had always been daunting for her as a human, but with his face shrouded in shadows, his red eyes seemed to gleam more than usual. “You won’t notice me, won’t see me, won’t hear me, until it’s too late.”